Tagged: tingling
we count down to our
we count down to our
meet-up, every time, smiles
wider, arms tingling
.
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y
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in both hands, my
in both hands, my
fingertips are still
tingling from cutting
into last night’s
cherry bomb
peppers, so sweet
and delicious a
memory
to meditate on
in child’s pose
.
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y
the first minute after
the first minute after
midnight always
tingles, as if it
were aiming
molecular darts
into the darkness,
listening for time
to stick. here,
hold my hand,
the seconds might
sting a little
.
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y
